


and in the human heart

by possibilityleft



Category: The Thrilling Adventure Hour
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, major character death offscreen, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:45:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3533294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possibilityleft/pseuds/possibilityleft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Sparks Nevada became a parent, and the one time he planned it first.  (End pairing: Sparks/Red/Croach.)</p><p> </p><p>  <em>"She likes riding," Sparks muttered under his breath.  Red could have been a little more clear about that.  Something like, "The baby is teething and won't sleep until you ride your horse around in circles for hours and she cries herself out."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	and in the human heart

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a set of five canon AUs and a final future scenario.
> 
> If you would like spoilers for the major character deaths in this story, which occur only in AU #4, please see the end notes. The deaths occurred off-screen and details are vague. There is also some heavily implied sex in the end section.
> 
> The title of this story, and the titles for all of the sections, come from a poem, "And In The Human Heart" by Conrad Aiken. You can read an excerpt from the poem [here](http://exceptindreams.livejournal.com/156718.html?thread=1983790#t1983790).

**1\. the strong cord loose its word as light as flame**

Sparks Nevada was riding the red plains of Mars with a baby seat strapped to the back of his horse, and he couldn't tell you the last time he'd been so happy, because finally his daughter had fallen asleep.

"She likes riding," Sparks muttered under his breath. Red could have been a little more clear about that. Something like, "The baby is teething and won't sleep until you ride your horse around in circles for hours and she cries herself out."

The Widow Johnson had told him, the last time he asked for advice, that he really should just put the baby to bed and wait for her to cry herself to sleep, but he couldn't stand it. He kept checking on her every five minutes until finally he scooped her up in his arms, smelled her cute little baby head like always, and carefully strapped her into the saddle. Just because Mrs. Johnson had raised kids of her own, it didn't mean she knew what was best for his kid. 

She already liked riding, at least. Sparks yawned, pointing Mercury back towards home. Maybe he'd get a little sleep after he wiped down the horse and put her in the crib. 

The town was quiet as he rode through, the only sound the clop of Mercury's hooves on the red dirt. It felt like no one else existed, which was almost sweet somehow to his exhausted brain. 

"You're going to be a great marshal someday, Little Bit," he whispered to her. The baby sighed in her sleep. He smiled. 

Then again, she might ride the plains with her mom, or run for President, or open a hardware store. She was smart enough to do anything , he knew. She sat up early and he was pretty sure she'd start crawling soon.

It wasn't what he'd expected when Red told him she was pregnant. It was like he thought the baby hormones would just make it all work out between them, that they'd instantly become a family, just like the one he wanted when he was growing up, white picket fence and the whole thing. He had a family, of course, and his parents were still married, but being a USSA military brat meant that he grew up in a lot of unusual circumstances, traveling the galaxy and living on ship after ship after ship. His little girl would grow up on Mars; Mars would be her home, unfenced. There were a lot of different kinds of families nowadays. His was pretty good.

They made it back to the boarding house before the first sun rose, and after tucking her in, Sparks collapsed in his bed, barely remembering to kick off his boots. 

He had to get up in two hours, but he was smiling as he drifted off.

*

**2\. bend as the bow bends, and let fly the shaft**

It wasn't that Sparks was terrible at tracking, just that Croach was so much better at it. This sort of thing usually took a lot less time, which meant that he had a lot less time for thinking. Instead he went around in circles, both on foot and in his brain.

Was that Croach's footprint there, or another person's? Did he really want Croach back, or was he just feeling bad for hurting his feelings? What was he going to say when he found Croach, anyway?

Plus, he was worried about Red and her feelings. He half-thought he should be tracking her instead, but she'd be just as likely to shoot him as to cry on his shoulder, and he was pretty sure that if she started crying, he would too, and marshals were not supposed to cry, even in front of the person who might have been the mother of his child.

That would have been -- he had no idea, really, but at least he'd had time to get used to it. Started looking forward to it. He'd hardly had time to realize that he'd never get to hold that baby when Croach sprang another one on him. And it was Croach, with all his weird bodily functions and stranger traditions and who was probably a dude, at least most of the time. Croach, who wouldn't admit to being his deputy or his friend, and whom he had definitely not consented to reproducing with.

Of course, he hadn't intended to have a child with Red, either, but at least he'd enjoyed the actions that had led to it. But thinking it like that seemed selfish. If Croach was going to have Sparks's kid, Sparks should take responsibility for it, regardless of the circumstances. The kid didn't choose his parents, after all.

Croach had been doing a lot for him while he was stuck in his depression, a fact that made Sparks cringe a little in his boots. Croach had been fighting robots and finding lost farm animals and planning a surprise baby shower, putting up with Sparks moping around everywhere, and Sparks hadn't appreciated any of it.

He came around the edge of a crater and there was Croach, quantum bow pointed straight at him.

"I thought you'd figure it was me coming," Sparks said. "You can stop pointing that at me, Croach."

"I was aware that you were coming, Sparks Nevada," Croach said. The bow did not waver.

"I," Sparks began. He stopped, swallowed, and tried again. "Croach, I-- Will you _please_ stop pointing that at me?"

"Very well," Croach said. He lowered the weapon and waited, but that didn't make Sparks feel much better.

"If we don't hurry, we're going to miss the surprise event," he said at last.

"I am not aware of any surprise event," Croach said, sulkily.

"Stands to reason, since it's a surprise," Sparks answered. "Guess I ruined it. Will you come anyway? Felton knitted something for the baby and I'm afraid it's going to fit."

"That is unlikely," Croach said. "A youngling goes through several stages in which clothing would be inappropriate."

He reached down and picked up his bag. Sparks put out a hand.

"Let me carry it," he said.

Croach actually did. And several months later, when he was doing something super gross that was going to end up with them, the two of them, having offspring, Sparks was there.

Croach carefully kicked dirt over the little depression in the ground until all of the eggs were covered.

"There," he said, sounding tired and satisfied. "A single youngling will emerge in several months, the fittest of its broodmates, and we will raise it."

"We'd better start talking about names, I guess," Sparks said.

"Indeed," Croach said, "we will have to choose something you can pronounce with your limited human tongue."

"I was thinking Sparks, Junior," Sparks said, just to see Croach's antennae twitch with irritation, and they walked back towards town, arguing the entire way.

*

**3\. careless of all things, if that love be bright**

Sparks was in the middle of a parking citation when his phone rang, and after checking the caller ID, he scowled at the alien being who had parked his or her spaceship in the middle of town square.

"Just -- just don't do this again," he said. "Get a permit."

He climbed on his horse and rode off in a hurry. When he arrived in front of the schoolhouse, Pemily was sitting outside by herself, her arms around her knees. She glanced up when he approached, and then back down at the ground, scowling.

Sparks got down from the horse and crouched down in front of her, wincing a little as his joints cracked.

"How's it going, cowpoke?" he asked. Pemily's grip on herself tightened.

"That good, hmm?" he tried again. No answer. "Missus Stewart called me, said you were having some problems playing with other kids at recess. Said you might have been playing too hard."

Pemily's shoulders shook; a hand darted up to wipe at her eyes.

"Timmy threw a ball at me," she said in a small voice, and then continued, volume and agitation growing, "so I threw it back! And then I jumped on him and started kicking! It could have been a bomb, Marshal! It could have been a bomb!"

She was staring at him, eyes manic, mind clearly lost in terrible memories. Sparks leaned forward and carefully wrapped his arms around her small form.

"We don't weaponize sports on Mars," he said, resting his chin on the top of her head. "You're safe here, far away from the moon. You didn't, uh... he's going to be all right, right?"

Mrs. Stewart hadn't seemed that worried, but Pemily was not the youngest winner of punishment soccer for no reason. She'd proven too dangerous on the moon, afterwards, and her time in a Mars orphanage ended abruptly after she'd beaten her roommates bloody for an offense she still wouldn't tell Sparks about. He'd taken her in, since it didn't seem right to lock up a twelve-year-old with all of the robot banditos. She'd taken a shine to the idea of being a deputy, but he'd convinced her she'd need an education first. It had been going pretty well, really, especially when Croach could be convinced to help her with the math problems.

It wasn't how Sparks had intended to become a parent, but there were worse ways. A little girl needed his help, and he was going to provide it.

"They pulled me off before I could do any real damage," Pemily said, sulkily, but she relaxed a little into the hug, her small fingers clutching at the hem of his shirt.

"Good. Then later we'll go over to his house to apologize," Sparks said, in a tone that brooked no argument. "In the meantime, I think your teacher might need someone to clap erasers or do whatever it is that you do to clean space chalkboards. You can do that while I talk to her."

She muttered something into his chest that he couldn't hear.

"What?"

"I said, am I going to get kicked out of school too? Then I'll never become a marshal!"

He let her go and climbed back to his feet, and then offered her a hand. She took it.

"I'm not giving up on you, Deputy Stallwark," he said to her.

"Yes, sir," Pemily said, and the schoolhouse doors admitted them, which was a start. 

*

**4\. broken or bruised, yet let it, broken, speak**

"I'm under onus to you for the assistance," Sparks said, carefully, and the Martian sitting across from him nodded. Sparks let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Thank you," he said, getting up.

"A statement of gratitude is not necessary," the Martian said.

"I know," Sparks said, and left the tent. Seldom was waiting for him, shoulders hunched with tension. Her face searched his for news.

"He agreed to help," Sparks told her. "He will teach you the necessary rituals and when he thinks you're ready, you'll be able to have your hero's quest or whatever."

"Hee-Ros K’west," Seldom said promptly.

"That's what... never mind," Sparks said. "Come on, we need to get back to the marshal station."

She followed him back to the horse and scrambled up on it behind him. They were most of the way back to town before she spoke again.

"Is it scary, Sparks Nevada?" she asked.

"What? Oh, the quest? Well..." Sparks considered. It had been... nearly fifteen years since he had accidentally nearly ruined Red's ritual. He nearly kicked Mercury when he realized that. How had it been so long? How was it that Seldom was old enough to start preparing for her own ceremony?

It still ached that Red and Croach weren't here to see her. Croach would have liked directing her through the trial, and Red could have come along as the witness, and her proud godfather, the marshal on Mars, would be waiting for her to come back to the marshal station and tell him all about it.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," he said over his shoulder. "You're a smart kid. I'll teach you shooting, F'ny will teach you about your heritage, and you'll have your designation before you know it. Plus ice cream cake."

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. He was glad to see that smile. He hadn't seen it much after her parents had died. The heart had gone out of them both, then. The only thing that prevented him from dragging around robot fists was needing to take care of her. She'd saved him just as much, with her little blue freckles and thoughtful voice.

"I want chocolate," she said. "It is not poisonous to my half-Martian biology."

"We'll leave the nuts out, though, in case," Sparks said.

"Seems fair," she agreed. "I am under onus to you, Sparks Nevada."

"Nope," Sparks said, "still working off mine to your mom and dad. Probably. You'll be better than me at counting it soon enough. Even though I don't really think we need it."

"A mutually beneficial onus helps all members associated to understand their position in group dynamics," she said, and she sounded so much like Croach that he had to shut his eyes for a moment. Mars dust, probably, making his eyes run.

They pulled up in front of the marshal station and when they got off the horse, she took Mercury's bridle. She loved the horse for some reason, and he wasn't going to complain when she wanted to rub him down, although she did give him too many sugar cubes sometimes. He really ought to think about getting her a horse of her own, or a hoversaddle, maybe, if he could figure out how to negotiate that. It wasn't that Croach's tribe were hostile to the idea of accepting Seldom, but that Sparks didn't have anyone to help him figure out how to talk to them or what to offer for onus purposes most times. They would have adopted her, if he'd asked, because, as he understood it, a child would pay back the onus caused by their raising, but half of her was human too, and he wasn't going to charge her for the privilege of bringing her up, even if they didn't think of it that way. He was from Earth. They didn't do that there.

"Can I go to Janey's?" Seldom asked, and she was all little girl again, dancing on her toes and pulling on Mercury's reins. Unfazed, the horse leaned down to clip some grass.

"Be home before dark," he said, and she darted toward the barn before he could change his mind. Sparks watched her go.

*

**5\. speak without cunning, love, as without craft**

Sparks Nevada was throwing pencils at the ceiling when the marshal station door announced that she was opening. She sat up quickly and tried to look professional instead of horribly bored. It had been strangely quiet on Mars since their encounter with their alternate selves. Last week, she'd even gotten a postcard from a robot outlaw who was vacationing on Saturn.

(She'd put it on her bulletin board; Saturn's rings really were quite pretty.)

"Sparks!" Ginny said, and before Sparks could react, she was being hugged so hard she could hardly breathe, her face pressed into Ginny's chest. The day was improving already. When Ginny finally let her go, she waved a small white stick in Sparks's face.

"What is _that_?" Sparks said, heart thumping in her throat, because she had an idea of what it could be. And it wasn't as if they'd never spoken about having children, but since it wouldn't be an easy or accidental process, they'd put the idea aside for a while. They were both busy with their careers, after all, and Sparks wasn't sure she was ready to be a mother. She would have done her best with Red or Croach, if Jib Janeen hadn't taken the choice away from them, but secretly, very secretly, she'd been relieved, after the disappointment faded.

"We're pregnant!" Ginny said. "Isn't it great?!"

"Um, but," Sparks said, swallowing, "how exactly? And by we, you mean you, right?"

"It was Ezra," Ginny said. "Red's dad is big on family, and he has cosmic space powers, he probably decided to give us a present. I just had the urge to check. Troubleshooters trust their hunches, you know? And I was right! We're going to have a baby! I found the card in the fridge while I was waiting for the test to finish."

She pulled the card from her back pocket and tossed it down on Sparks's desk. It was white and sparkly, with a space cradle on front.

"But you mean, _you_ are going to have a baby, right?" Sparks said. "Ji-- I've been told I can't get pregnant, so..."

"Yes, me," Ginny clarified, and then she frowned. "You don't seem excited."

"I am, I am, I'm just... a little terrified?" Sparks admitted, her voice rising into a squeak. "I thought we would _plan_ \-- it's a surprise! I'm surprised! And terrified!"

She stared at Ginny's belly, still flat, as if there was a bomb about to go off in there.

"I wanted to do this properly," she said, almost to herself.

Ginny reached out and took Sparks's hand. "When do you ever do anything properly?" she said, tone affectionate, and when Sparks's nose wrinkled in annoyance, she leaned down and kissed it.

"You have nine months to figure it out," Ginny said. " _We_ have nine months."

To think, Sparks thought, that five minutes before, she had been bored. She should have known better.

*

**1\. this to be known, that love is love**

"Don't freak out," Red said, and Sparks groaned. He groaned again for good measure.

"Sparks Nevada, you are freaking out," Croach said helpfully.

"That's because," Sparks said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "when you start a conversation with 'don't freak out,' it never, ever leads anywhere good."

"You're being awfully judgmental, Nevada," Red said.

"We just -- and you're still calling me Nevada?" Sparks muttered, almost to himself, and then he stretched back on the bed and threw an arm over his face. (Croach and Red exchanged a knowing, fond look.)

"Would you like a nickname?" Croach asked, and Red cut off Sparks's vehement denial.

"Focus," Red said. She stretched out on the other side of Sparks and propped her head up on her wrist to look at him. "Can I finish? Please?" Her drawl was thick with sarcasm.

Croach had his hands on Sparks's feet, and Sparks suppressed a shiver as Croach rubbed the ball of his foot.

"Please," Sparks said, lifting his arm to look at them -- the Martian and the woman raised by Martians, the two most important people in his life. Earth was very far away right now, and he couldn't bring himself to care.

"I've been thinking -- Croach and I have been thinking, this has been going real well, and none of us getting any younger, although mostly you getting older -- "

"Hey," Sparks protested, but it was true, marshaling didn't keep you young, and he didn't have any Nah Nohtek to praise. He thought he was doing pretty good, though. He hadn't gotten shot in months.

"Mostly you getting older," she repeated, "that it might be time to settle down a bit. Temporary-like. And maybe have some younglings. Together."

"It can be done," Croach spoke up. "Our biologies are compatible in this manner. Others have been previously successful."

Sparks didn't say a thing. Croach and Red waited.

"For real this time," he said, finally. "All three of us, parents. On purpose. Our own little cowpoke."

"That's the idea," Red said. Her eyes were soft in the light of the two moons. She was just as beautiful as the day they'd met, all those years ago. And Croach... had grown on him. A bit.

(A lot more than he'd admit, but, well, Croach wasn't so good with feelings either, so they left a lot unsaid between them. Actions counted more.)

"I believe that we could be a successful parental unit," Croach said.

"Long as you aren't telling the bedtime stories, maybe," Sparks said, and the tension drained out of the room.

"I would only tell the traditional stories of our tribe," Croach said, and Sparks leaned up, grabbing Croach's shoulders and pulling him towards him, so that the three of them were pressed together in the bed. Croach's skin was pleasantly cool.

"I reckon we have better stories we can tell him or her," Sparks said. "The stories of Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars, and his faithful companions, The Red Plains Rider and Croach the Tracker."

Red started tickling him and didn't stop until he gasped out, "I yield!" Sparks's ribs hurt from laughing, and he was a bit light-headed, but he didn't hesitate.

"Yes," he said, "let's do it. Let's start right now."

When he reached out, they were both there.

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler character death: in AU #4, both Red and Croach are dead by unexplained causes, which happened off screen.
> 
> I cut a scene from AU #2 since it didn't fit, but I still like it, so I'm going to put it in here as a bonus:
>
>> Croach got him a book. Sparks stared at it. The title was, _What to Expect When Your Partner Has Been Fertilized_. There was an anatomical drawing on the front of the interior of a Martian egg.
>> 
>> "Look," Croach said, pointing, "that receptor will become an eye, and right here is the tail we shed not long after birth."
>> 
>> Sparks opened his mouth to say, "Gross," but instead, his voice squeaked into, "Aww."
>> 
>> Croach didn't smile, but he did edge a little closer to Sparks, so maybe it was worth it.


End file.
